


Eyes of a Corpse

by Shaybot



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26886814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaybot/pseuds/Shaybot
Summary: In which Byleth has a very hard time recognizing and handling her own grief and Claude comes to the rescue.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 60





	Eyes of a Corpse

The funeral had been that morning; it was a quiet affair held in the cathedral. Plenty of people had attended the service, the students and knights were just about all there, along with plenty of the citizens of the village and a handful of monks. It was four knights, including Alois, that carried the casket over the bridge and into the small cemetery. Byleth walked behind, barely aware of Rhea beside her and her class following behind. She pressed her lips into a hard, thin line as they lowered it into the ground next to another, much older casket.

  
She stayed there as the knights filled in the hole and throughout the day. She wasn’t sure why she stayed, but her legs wouldn’t move once they had all but collapsed beneath her. She couldn’t get the scene out of her mind; the horrible girl just sauntering away as he fell to the ground. The look on his face before all the life left him. She thought she should feel something as she sat before the grave, but she felt just as empty as she did before coming to this place.

  
Finally, as the sun began to set, Byleth stood and began to walk. She left the cemetery, walked past the knights’ quarters and through the stables towards the entrance of the monastery proper. She felt eyes on her as she walked through the gate into the village beyond. The villagers kept well clear as she walked down the streets, all the way to a tiny cottage on the outskirts. Many voices could be heard through the stone walls, and the smell of smoke and roasting meats wafted from the small windows.

  
She entered and made her way to a small table along one wall, giving her order to the attractive waitress that approached her almost immediately. The girl returned with a large bowl of a hearty, steaming stew and an oversized mug of their strongest ale within a few minutes. Byleth nodded her thanks and downed half of the ale in one long swig, before starting to eat.

  
The girl hung back for a moment, quietly thinking before she spoke, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here without your father. Is he not well?”

  
Byleth swallowed, then spoke flatly, barely looking up from her bowl, “He was killed. The funeral was this morning.”

  
“Goddess, no!” The waitress gasped, then placed a delicate hand on the professor’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know. The two of you have been some of our best customers. The whole pub mourns with you.”

  
She glanced up for a moment, “Thank you. I think I’d like another mug when you get the chance.”

  
“Of course, dear. I’ll bring it right over.” the girl patted Byleth’s shoulder before heading back to the bar.

  
After draining the last of the ale, Byleth spoke again, “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.” She threw a blank stare over her shoulder to look at the young man sitting at a nearby table. “Come on, don’t make me talk over my shoulder all night.”

  
He laughed and scratched the back of his head as he walked over to sit across from her, “Nothing gets by you, Teach.”

  
“What are you doing here, Claude?” She sighed before taking another bite.

  
“I wanted to check in on you.” He paused as the waitress returned with two more mugs of ale and another bowl of stew. When he tried to protest, she shook her head, “You two are on the house tonight. In honor of Jeralt.” After giving their thanks, she left them alone again.

  
“You were out in the cemetery all day, Teach. We were starting to get worried you’d never get up.”

  
Byleth nodded and threw back her mug. When she looked at him again, one brow was raised, “We?”

  
“Well, yeah. Everyone at the officer’s academy really cares about you, Teach.”

  
“Hmm.” She stared down at the table for a few moments, “I was a mercenary, Claude; death is a part of life. The living can’t let the dead control them.”

  
He huffed a frustrated sigh, “Ok, but it’s never been your father that was the one who died. That’s different.”

  
“Is it?”

  
The pair stared at each other for several moments. It crossed Claude’s mind that staring into her eyes was like looking into the eyes of a corpse. They were flat, unflinching, with no hint of emotion behind them. He looked away first, dipping into his stew. “Why wouldn’t it be? He was your father.”

  
Byleth pressed her mouth into a thin line and furrowed her brows as she leaned back in her chair, “I don’t...feel things...the same way the rest of you do. It’s like my emotions are muted. The threshold is much higher. I was sitting in front of that grave all day waiting to feel...something...but it was just...emptiness.” She took another long drag from her mug. “It’s always been this way. He said as much in his diary.” She picked up the third mug and spoke before she downed it, “Now hurry up and finish your food, we should get back to the monastery. I can’t leave a student out here after dark, too many unsavory types around.”

  
By the time they left the bar, Byleth had a rosy tint to her cheeks. She tilted her head to look up at Claude beside her, “You worry too much.”

  
He raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh really, now.”

  
“Yep. Why else would you be out here?”

  
He held her shoulder as she started to lean a bit too far, “Clearly I was right to worry.”

  
She rolled her eyes, “Oh please, I’m fine.” and gave his arm a light push.

  
“Whatever you say, Teach. Let’s just get you back to your room.”

  
So the two walked back through the village, quietly at first, but before too long Byleth began to hum. Claude looked down at her, “What’s that?”

  
“A song my father would sing to me when I had nightmares. I don’t remember most of the words, but I still remember the tune.”

  
“You had nightmares?” he raised an incredulous eyebrow at her.

  
“I was a kid once, too. Just cause I didn’t cry doesn't mean I never got scared.”

  
“What could possibly give you nightmares?”

  
“Mostly just the one. I used to dream of an ancient war. For a kid it was scary, ok?” She elbowed him in the ribs, then continued humming as they passed through the gates of the monastery. When they reached the green house, Byleth turned to him, “Thank you for checking on me, Claude. I truly do appreciate it.”

  
“No problem, Teach. Sleep well.” He gave her a grin, waved and watched her head towards her room.

  
That night, she had the dream again. For the first time in almost a year. This time, though, it wasn’t nameless, faceless strangers clashing, it was her students. The war was vicious and bloody and it terrified her. She jerked up in bed, drenched in sweat, and jumped out of bed to go see Jeralt, but as she reached for the door, she froze. Her hand dropped and she took a step back.  
Before long, she was sitting at the end of the fishing pier. She sat, staring into the dark water, trying to stamp down the terror that had welled up in her chest. She leaned over and gripped her knees so hard her knuckles went white.

  
She was so focused on calming herself down that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. She only noticed them when she felt the pier shake slightly. Her eyes closed and she took a shuddering breath as someone took a seat next to her.

  
“You ok, Teach?”

  
She gasped and tried to smooth her expression, “Fine, I’m fine.”

  
“Teach, you’re shaking.” Claude gave her a concerned look, “What’s going on?”

  
She closed her eyes tight again, then let out a heavy sigh, “It was the dream again.”

  
“You said it was a war, right?”

  
“It was different this time. It’s never been different.”

  
He put a hand on her back, “Can you tell me how?”

  
She bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

  
“Alright, fair enough.” He was quiet for a bit, watching her face, expression so different than the one she gave him just a few hours before. Her brows were deeply furrowed and he could see shadows under her eyes; she was still gripping her knees. “Hey, how did that song that you were telling me about earlier go? I got the first few notes stuck in my head, but can’t remember the rest of it. It’s been driving me crazy.”

  
She side eyed him suspiciously, “Oh really?” He just nodded. With a roll of her eyes, she started to hum. Sure enough, the tune distracted her enough to alleviate the tension on her face and in her shoulders. When she finished the song, she sighed, staring down into the dark water for a long time before she spoke again, “I miss him.”

  
Claude put an arm around her shoulder, "I know...you don't have to deal with this on your own, you know."

  
There was a moment of silence where they both just stared up at the stars, and then he felt her shaking again. When he looked back down at her, there were tears streaking down her face. After a second of shock, he wrapped his other arm around her and rubbed her back as she quietly cried into his shoulder. It was hard to deny, he was slightly relieved to see she wasn't completely devoid of emotion, especially after what he had seen in her eyes only hours prior. In the same moment, however, he found himself furious that someone could put her in such a state, she who was usually the pillar of stability in the sea of emotional turmoil that was his life.

  
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there like that, but he knew that he’d sit there all night if she needed it. Eventually, though, he became aware of how still she’d become. When he leaned back to look down at her, she had fallen quietly asleep. Gently, he shifted to carry her and carefully made his way to her room. Luckily, her door was unlocked, so he could back into the room and lay her on the bed, all without disturbing her.

  
He couldn’t help his eyes lingering on her face, finally peaceful. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning over and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. For a split second he was afraid she was about to wake up and give him one of those looks that she reserved for when she was particularly annoyed with him. She remained asleep, though, just shifted and muttered something unintelligible. He let loose a relieved sigh and pulled the blanket back over her before whispering, “good night, Teach.” and leaving as quietly as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a small piece of my current obsession with the absolute babe that is Claude Von Riegan. I've got quite a few more in progress that may or may not get posted, depending on how this one does.


End file.
